


His Dark Prince

by fiveainley_ohmy



Series: The Weird and Sexual Adventures of Doctor Who [12]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: First Time, Forgive the stupid title, M/M, Memory Loss, POV First Person, Serial: s116: Castrovalva
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and the Master have sex on Castrovalva. Because we all know it happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Dark Prince

My mind really isn't in the best state. That I know. I went through some kind of trauma the previous day. I need to find a doctor, I think. Those kind young ladies, Nyssa and, oh, Dodo, was it?, kept mentioning a Doctor. Perhaps I'm sick. I must be unwell, for I can't even remember my own name at the moment. All I know is the two girls (I could almost swear there was a third, but not female), the strange, little-big blue ship which felt like home, and the planet it brought me to, to heal. Castrovalva. It was like something from a storybook, like the palace of that wretched Queen of Hearts-oh, there's something, I remember Lewis Carroll. Well, it's a start.

There's something else too-a man. A dark haired man, lovely and frightening at the same time. Something inside my hearts draws me to him, though my head leads me away.

It was this night that the man, the black knight, my dark prince, came to visit me as I slept. Which is why I cannot be sure if it was real, if it was a product of my current insanity, or simply a forbidden fantasy, conjured up in my night dreams, the only place I can wish without pain of guilt.

The Portreeve (such a kindly old man, warm, reassuring...familiar) gives me a sedative to help me sleep-he, in all his sagely wisdom, knows of my ailment, and that rest will solidify my scrambled mind. I take it with thanks and lie down on the soft bed. I suppose I fall asleep immediately, because I awake several hours later to the sensation of someone untying and slipping off my trainers. I smile at myself in the darkness. How silly I must be, to go to sleep with my shoes on!

A weight on the mattress shifts as my anonymous visitor sits beside me. Clever fingers thread through my hair, stroking my scalp tenderly. I sigh and roll over into the touch.

The stroking stops at my movement. I open one eye sleepily. “Please. Keep going," I say.

It is dark, so I cannot tell the identity of my visitor, but the feeling of coarse beard hairs give away that it is a man as he leans down to drop a kiss on my forehead. “Go to sleep, my love," he whispers softly. “I shall watch over you."

“Wait. Who are you?" I ask, reaching out into nothingness. My hand touches velvet.

A warm hand takes mine. “No one. I am no one. You must sleep now."

“But I can't-wait-" I reach to my right with my free hand and turn the key on the small oil lamp on my bedside table. Gradually, the flame flickers on, and my visitor's face is slowly revealed to me.

He is ruggedly handsome, I see. His hair, both cranial and facial, is dark brown, nearly black. His jawline and nose are harsh, weathered, but he is not old, no. At least, not in the physical sense. But his calm grey-blue eyes speak with the experience of someone who has lived eons. It is the curiousest thing, but I feel as though that expression is perhaps not so unknown to me.

Without thinking, with an instinct that seems to me as natural as the sun rising in the morning or the stars burning at night, I slowly sweep the backs of my fingers across his cheek. “You seem...familiar," I say deliberately. 

“My dear, you need rest," my dark visitor says as he tries to get me to lie back once more.

“Please, how do you know me?" I say, clinging to him.

The man sighs. “We have...met. In the past."

“Who are you?" I ask again.

“A friend. Someone who will take care of you while you are sick," he answers. “Now, sleep. I will watch over you till morning."

He tries to get up, but I hold onto his arm. “Can't you watch over me from here?" I ask, smiling to reassure him.

The man thinks, then nods. He stands, takes off his black velvet jacket and lays it on a chair. Then he goes to the other side of the bed and lies down beside me. I roll over so I can stare into his eyes. They reflect the warm glow of the lamp.

“You are sad," I say. “Why are you sad?"

“Because I've done a bad thing to a person I love very much," he replies morosely.

"Does this person love you?" I ask.

He stares into my eyes, extremely ashamed. "He used to. But that was before I became evil."

"I don't think you're evil," I say, smiling again. I reach out, intending to touch his shoulder, but I end up cupping his cheek. Then he shifts closer to me as my hand drifts up through his hair. It is hard, stiff, slicked back severely, but my fingers soon have it loose and soft. His face is mere inches from mine. I can determine every tiny shutter of his long eyelashes. His irises are dark and clear. His breath is warm and somehow inviting. I'm not sure what makes me do this, but I scoot closer and softly lay my lips on his.

The man takes in a surprised breath through his nose, but I take no notice. All of a sudden I feel this terrible need to kiss him, so I do. I cup the back of his head and move my lips against his, wanting to know how he feels, how he tastes. The man makes a little noise in the back of his throat, something between a moan and a whimper.

Then he is kissing me back. His hand lays on the small of my back and pulls me into him, then it runs up to the back of my neck, holding me in place. He claims my lips, hungry for me as I feel for him. He is content with giving me lip kisses at first, but then I feel a warm wet tongue trying to gain entrance to my mouth as he rolls me over onto my back. I willingly open my lips, and moan happily when he slides that muscle inside. My hearts are pounding, my head is floating, my blood is on fire, and I want to sink into him forever-

Suddenly he wrenches away, gasping. I am out of breath too as I ask him, "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head, hurriedly getting up from the bed. "We can't, you're not well...I shouldn't have come here-"

"No, wait, please!" I beg, sitting up and getting on my knees so I can look him the eye. I take his hand and cling to it. "I want it, I want you. Please, don't go."

He closes his eyes in sorrow and takes my hand and presses a kiss to the heel of it. "You don't know what you are saying, my beloved. You don't even know who I am. If you did, if you knew of the things I've done-"

"I know that...you are someone I know," I struggle, racking the muddled synapses of my brain. He is there, I know it, I can feel it. "Someone important."

My visitor shakes his head. "In a way, I suppose. And that is why we can't do this. Go back to sleep. Forget I was here, my love. Go back to your dreaming."

"I don't want to!" I exclaim, throwing my arms around his shoulders and pressing my lips against his in a desperate kiss. "Please," I murmur, tentatively stroking his beard.

He tips my head up and we stare into each other's eyes for a moment. I have no idea what mine look like, but I hope they're pretty and blue like his.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers, running his thumb over my cheekbone. Then his eyes close and he leans in to kiss me, holding me close, my arms still wound around his neck. I moan quietly against his lips.

I don't know much about myself at the moment, except that I like _Alice In Wonderland_ , and that I am silly and sleep with my shoes on sometimes. But I do know that whoever I am, I belong to this man. My dark lover. He is mine, and I am his.

My hands slip down his chest and I fiddle with the buttons of his waistcoat. He lets it fall off of his shoulders, our kiss never breaking for an instant. I run my hands over his torso and feel well toned muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. He slowly slides my coat off and lets it fall to the floor with his vest. Then he slips his hands under my jumper. I suddenly regret wearing so many layers. Our mouths disconnect just long enough for him to pull the sweater over my head, then they are immediately back on each other, urgent and passionate, but still slow enough to be sensual. My senses feel overloaded.

He takes my braces off of my shoulders and lets them hang at my hips. His hands, strong and masterful (now that's a funny word to think of, I muse to myself briefly), yet gentle, linger there, tracing my pelvic bone through the fabric of my trousers. He gently grips my hips and I feel myself slowly being pressed back onto the mattress.

His lips pull away from mine and I moan with bliss as he moves down to caress my neck. He explores the sensitive flesh with his mouth tenderly, licking long strokes up as one might do with an ice cream cone. "You taste so sweet," he whispers huskily, right in my ear. Then he traces the shell of it with his tongue, and I shudder. I can feel something hard and hot pressed against my thigh, and just the thought of _it_ causes my hips to arch up off the bed; my clothed member swells and stiffens in response.

"Are you alright?" my lover asks, concerned, looking up at me.

"Yes, oh God, yes," I gasp helplessly, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair and crush our lips together. He groans and kisses me back just fervently, plunging his tongue inside my mouth. I'm clenching his thick hair with one hand and gripping the back of his shirt with the other. One of his is trapped under my back, and the other is snaking its way down my side. It slips under my hip and suddenly squeezes my arse. We're both moaning into each other. I need more.

He senses this, I suppose, because he expediently undoes the buttons of my shirt and untucks it from my pants. He surely sees my arousal through the fabric, but says nothing. He contents himself with mouthing at my exposed torso. I notice that my body is slender, that my chest is sprinkled with freckles. I flush, despite needing blood in other places. My lover kisses his way down my sternum. He brushes his thumbs over my nipples and I shiver again. He looks up at me and smiles at me mischievously. His fingers trail my sides and dance over ticklish ribs. I giggle slightly; he laughs in response, low and rich and wonderful. His lips sweep down my abdomen-his tongue dips momentarily into my navel and I twitch. I'm very sensitive, apparently, almost to a degree of ridiculousness. Then he gets to my waistline and pauses. "Are you sure this what you want?" he asks.

"Oh, please, yes, please, just-"

My dark prince swiftly unbuttoned my trousers and slides a hand into my pants. I feel his hot hand close around me and I moan, very audibly, I'm embarrassed to admit. He draws me out of my fabric confines and admires. "Oh," he breathes, and I gasp as he lightly touches me and presses a tender kiss to my head, already slick with precome. "You're absolutely perfect."

I blush again, and, smiling knowingly, my lover moves lower to kiss the underside of my shaft. It must be an especially erogenous area, because I take in air sharply. He pulls away and painstakingly rolls my bottoms off of my legs. Then, licking his lips like a madman, my lover opens his mouth widely and-

"Oh...oh!" I cry out, my hands fisting in the bedsheets as he takes me into his mouth the whole way. The feeling of ecstasy is so great, my abdominal muscles contract and I sit up, legs spreading so that my prince nestles even further into my groin. He rolls my length over his hot tongue, and I moan blissfully as I card my fingers through his thick hair and get a good grip. No longer in control of my own body, I begin to thrust into his mouth. I guess he likes it, because he moans loudly at me and enthusiastically bobs his head up and down, matching my rhythm. Together, we make love to his throat. As I continue to pull in and out of his mouth, he reaches underneath and fondles my scrotum. I wish I had a name to call out, but sadly, my dark angel is anonymous.

I feel my arousal mounting to its apex, so I quickly cry out, "Stop!"

My lover pulls off of my erection with an audible pop. "What's the matter?" he worries.

"Nothing," I pant. "It's just that I was about to...erm..."

"Climax?" My prince coaxes.

I nod. "It's just...I wanted you to..." Again, I struggle to say the word.

"Make love to you?" he supplies.

I nod bashfully.

My lover smiles, eyes bright with desire in the low glow of the lamplight. He leans forward and kisses my forehead. "Anything you wish, my love."

He prompts me to lie back again, then stands up. He takes off his shirt. I gaze at his muscly chest, dusted with several small, curly black hairs that form into a line leading down into his velvet trousers, enraptured. Then I look at my own bird thin body, slightly disappointed.

He notices my dissatisfaction. "No, no, my love, don't feel that way. You are beautiful."

I feel flattered, but, nevertheless... "But I want to be handsome, like you," I pout.

He laughs again with that deep, rich voice as he steps out of the last of his clothing. "You are, my dear. Trust me." He climbs back onto the bed and straddles my body. One leg on each outer side of my thighs, a hand on either side of my head. His face slowly descends toward mine. "You... are... very... handsome... indeed." He breathes each word and ends with claiming my lips in another tender kiss.

My hearts are beating very rapidly. I whimper and cup his face, pulling it closer to mine. Suddenly I'm afraid of losing my lover. "Will I see you again?" I ask him in a small voice.

His eyebrows knit in perplexing. "Do you want to?" he asks.

I lick my lips. "I think I might like to," I say shyly.

My lover looks surprised, puzzled. And perhaps a little...hopeful? After a pause, he kisses the crease between my eyebrows and says, "Here is my promise to you. I cannot always be with you when you want me. But I will always come to you when you _need_ me. Will you remember that?"

I nod firmly. "I will."

He looks at me a moment longer, his gaze adoring and bittersweet. His eyes are sad, as if he doesn't believe me. Why would I lie? How could I possibly forget _this_? "Alright," he says finally, quietly. I lean up and press my lips to his, to show him I'm sincere.

He moves away for a moment to dips his fingers in the lamp oil on the nightstand, then blows on his fingers so the oil won't be too hot. Handy, that, I muse to myself, inwardly chuckling. Well, I'm certainly glad I'm a person with a sense of humor! How dreadfully boring it would be if I weren't!

A finger finds my entrance and slowly slides into me. The intrusion is unusual, yet somehow strangely pleasant. I can feel how tight I am and blush. My lover chuckles and kisses my forehead understandingly. How is it that he seems to know exactly what I'm feeling and thinking? Another finger inside me, and my muscles relax as he scissors his slickened digits, opening me up for him. I look down his body at his aroused manhood, standing firm between his legs. It's quite...impressive. "How will it fit?" I say aloud, slightly startled.

My lover strokes my hair (and I notice that it's quite long-perhaps I should get a haircut). "Don't worry. I'll be gentle."

I nod, trusting him. He adds another finger, patiently preparing me, even though I know he must be dying to have me-I'm dying to have him. He looks at me. "Ready?"

I nod sternly. In the short hours I can recall of my life, I haven't wanted anything so badly.

He pulls out his fingers and positions himself between my legs, the head of his erection at my entrance. He pulls my legs around his waist and leans over me, his hands on my shoulders, his elbows resting on my chest. Then, with a restrained push of his hips, he slides inside me.

Despite his obvious carefulness, I still gasp at the sudden pressure. It's slightly painful, but also exquisite, to feel him filling me up-it feels like completion, somehow. My head falls back on the pillow, my mouth open.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" asks my lover, worrying over me.

"No," I gasp, my hands at his sides, as if to keep him there. "Please, God, k-keep going-"

My lover groans with pleasure and pulls back slightly only to slide back in. I feel so lovely and aroused and _full_. His body is tight against mine, his naked torso warm and moist with perspiration, my erection trapped between his stomach and mine. I whimper as he rubs against it while he slowly thrusts into me, still being so delicate. "F-faster," I breathe, feeling high from the sheer ecstasy of the encounter. " _Please_."

"Is that really how you want it?" my dark angel whispers, his tones thick with lust.

"Yes, please, just give it to me, I want you-" My pleading ends in an anguished gasp as he thrusts, hard and deep into me, striking something deep inside. I cry out in desire, my hips arching. He moans in response and juts into me, again and again and again. He presses his body up against mine as he makes love to me, peppering my jaw and neck with open mouthed kisses that are so very hot. He bites down sharply on my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark and I hiss with delight. I'm practically sobbing from how good he feels. After several minutes, my dark prince throws his head back and releases his hot seed inside me. He pulls out of me. I barely have time to whimper from the loss before he grabs my erection and strokes me into my climax. My back arches as I come all over his stomach. I'm still shuddering as he leans over me and claims my lips once more. The last thing I remember is him whispering, " _Sleep_."

Then everything goes black.

************

The next morning, I awake. The sun is streaming through the curtains of my bedroom. It is strange, but the memories of last night are hazy, as if I had a very pleasant dream but couldn't quite remember-

Suddenly, I gasp as seven hundred odd years of memories flood back into my brain. I am...the Doctor! Of course! And I remember my companions, Nyssa and Tegan and...well, there was another one, though I can't recall the name at the moment. Take it slow, Doctor. But, yes, I do feel much better, more intact with my neurons.

I sit up and raise my arms to the ceiling, stretching. A brand new day, a brand new Doctor. It is then I realize I am fully clothed. How very strange. I distinctly remember from last night being...my cheeks heat up.

I push the covers off and look down at my beige coat, white sweater, and striped pants. I wiggle my toes inside my trainers. I've been left exactly as I feel asleep.

I feel a strange, sinking feeling in my stomach. My hearts beat dully, and I experience a pang of something go through me. I am...disappointed. My dark prince had just been a dream.

The door creaks open and one of the Castrovalvian natives poked his head inside. "Ah, Mergrave," I say, remembering him from yesterday.

"Good morning, Doctor," says Mergrave politely. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes," I say slowly, still slightly bemused by last night's vivid vision. "Thank you for asking."

"The Portreeve has had breakfast prepared for you and your companions," Mergrave informs me. "It shall be ready in an hour. Is there anything you require before that time?"

"Erm...yes, actually. I think I'd like to have a bath, if that's alright," I reply, rising from my bed.

"Certainly. Please, follow me."

Mergrave leads me to a luxurious bathroom, complete with soft towels and soaps and oils for bathing with, and leaves me to my privacy. I run a generous amount of hot water in the basin. Then I unlace my shoes and try to ignore that wave of sadness. I tell myself not dwell on it. It was a dream, a silly dream. That's all.

I hang my coat and jumper on the doorknob, then snap off my braces. I then set about unbuttoning my shirt and shrug it off my shoulders. I catch sight of myself in the mirror...and pause. I lean forward to inspect my reflection.

There is a bright red marking on my shoulder, in the distinct shape of teeth marks.

I smile to myself and lightly trace the mark with fingertips. I remember my dark prince's promise: _I will always come to you when you need me_.

Alice always strives to believe in three impossible things before breakfast. Well, I have about fifty minutes before mine. One down, two to go.


End file.
